


Guilty!

by Setter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8476789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setter/pseuds/Setter
Summary: Barty's trial.Prompt 583. "You sit in that chair like it's a throne, but you don't even rule yourself."Oneshot.





	

The temperature in the room visibly dropped below zero when a dozen cloaked figures entered the courtroom. Dementors: creatures who know no happiness or sorrow, swarmed around their prisoners. The light patronuses conjured by a group of guards keeping them from harming the men and women appointed to convict the worst criminals of all: death eaters.   
  
The dementors were send away as soon as the accused were seated and chained onto the big metal chairs. There were four seats and each one was occupied: a woman had been placed in the right chair and three men were secured in the left seats.   
The woman had wild, dark hair and heavy eyelids, that formed a huge contrast with her unnatural pale skin.   
The man most left was about the same age as her, but were she radiated superiority and confidence, the thin, black haired man looked insecure. His eyes darting around the room, seeking eye contact with the jury, hoping they wouldn’t give him back to his frightening guards.   
Next to him sat a somewhat robuste man, who looked a lot like his neighbour and could be a brother or maybe a cousin, based on his age and appearance. But contrary to his brother, he stared blankly into nothing. Seemingly not caring what would happen to him.   
The man - or better said: boy, next to the woman sat with a straight back on his chair. His arms strapped to the armrests were weirdly enough at ease. His chocolate brown eyes focused on the man who would speak the verdict, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Bartemius ‘Barty’ Crouch.   
  
The hammer of the judge landed onto the desk with a loud, but dull tudd. “You are brought before the court to hear the verdict placed upon you for your involvement in the torture of Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice Longbottom by means of Cruciatus curse” The man took a deep breath before he continued: “Bellatrix Lestrange, Rastaban Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange and Bartemius Crouch Junior,” the boy hissed when the man called him Bartemius, “do any of you deny your participation in this hideous crime?” He didn’t expect an answer that would change the punishment, but had to ask out of correctness.   
  
The jury and the public all went quiet when the boy sat up even straighter and opened his mouth to speak. “Hello father,” he simply greeted the judge in the front. For a moment Bartemius looked at the boy, but afraid of what he saw he turned away. Something in the eyes of the boy changed at the lack of response. The brown orbs grew darker, almost black, and it became hard to distinguish the iris from the pupil. “I said hello father” The silence grew heavier every second and with still no response he spoke once more: “I’m not going to repeat myself again” His voice had a dangerous edge to it and his gaze seemed to dissect the man judging him. The boy’s tongue flicked out of his mouth and disappeared back behind the thin lips just as fast at it had come.   
  
“I don’t have a son, not anymore. No son of mine is a killer!” the man replied fiercely, finally finding the courage to respond. That was not the answer Barty had wanted to hear as he now tried to stand, pulling at the iron chains holding him back. His face twisting in anger both at the man’s words and the bonds keeping him in control. “You sit in that chair like it’s a throne, but you don’t even rule yourself!” he shouted. Madness and rage visible in his eyes. His tongue, that kept flicking to the the left corner of his mouth, accompanied his screams. “You think you’re so good, that you’re saving the wizarding world. That you will be minister, but what you don’t know dear ‘father’ is that your ambition will kill you! And eventually it will kill everyone! IT KILLED ME!” Saliva flew out of Barty’s mouth as he ranted on in rage. “You’re deranged!” Crouch senior shouted at his raving son. “Voldemort will rise again! None of you will be spared! There’s nothing you can do about it! And it will all be your fault!” Barty screamed like a madman. His eyes were wider than anyone thought possible for a human, almost falling out of their sockets. “I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!”   
  
A lunatic’s grin graced the woman’s lips as she bore her eyes into the minister’s and yelled her own believes at the man. Ignoring the screams of the boy on her right. "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch!  Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!" Her words could barely be heard over Barty’s insane screaming, but didn’t miss their impact. The people watching the trial became even more restless and frightened. Their panicked whispers filling the room.   
  
Crouch turned to the jury and screamed, so silencing the crowd: “I ask the jury to raise their hands if they find, just like me, that the accused should receive the maximum punishment for their crimes” The witches and wizards eyed by Crouch raised their hands like one and the public burst into a victorious aplaus.   
  
Guards came from the doors the prisoners had used to enter the court. Barty jerked at his shackles, wanting to murder the man he held responsible for his misery. He wanted to torture the monster who had created him. Wanted to choock the live out of him, wanted his hands soaked with his father’s blood. Dark, red blood that would finally grant him peace.   
  
The guards held him strongly, the dementors he hated almost as much as the man locking him up, were let back into the room and crowded around him and his three accomplices. “I’LL KILL YOU!” he screamed the words and repeated them like a mantra as the guards dragged him out the room. The last words he heard before he was shipped of to Azkaban for good stayed with him for the rest of his confinement. “Bartemius Crouch Junior you are deemed guilty and are sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban!”


End file.
